El Mo Flow

El Mo Flow

Noel Laflin

7-17-15

Folks out in my neck of suburbia – specifically the El Modena and unincorporated county land - live in the shadow of ancient volcanoes. My home, for example, sits at the base of Panorama Heights – a steep hill whose summit is crowded with expensive houses basking in glorious views of Catalina - all long documented by geologists and volcanologists as an area where various types of old lava flows are still quite evident.

Head north a mile over and one can climb up and hike along the El Modena Open Space Trail and see even more clear evidence of our molten past.  The students at Santiago Middle School, whose campus sits at the western base of the old volcano, have been doing so for years.  The trail straight up from the back of the school is well-trodden - as are trails on the eastern side of the hill off of Cannon Street.

It must have been quite a sight some twenty-three to five million years ago when vents of steam first burst through the ocean floor, of what would eventually become the furthest reaches of East Orange, sending up plumes of gas and molten rock.  Although the dinosaurs may have already been long gone, giant camels and strange looking horses bore witness no doubt to the rising of our future foothills. We were all under water way back when, as the sea was still lapping at what would eventually become the San Gabriel and San Bernardino Mountain Ranges.  We were semi-tropical and actually sitting about hundred and fifty miles southeast of our current location.   But what a time it must have been.

It all makes sense now, as I still uncover the occasional piece of basaltic scoria in my small garden.  The frothy, bubble-encrusted rocks stand out quite distinctly from all of the other smoother stones unearthed while planting a new fruit tree or laying out the parameters of a small fish pond. I have always marveled at their discovery and used to wonder just how the hell they got here.  

But, I wonder no more.